Stuff of Dreamers
by Murkle Mugs
Summary: "Romance is the stuff of dreamers..." Alek and Deryn.
1. Moonlight Shows the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

This is a little side-project thing I decided to do in my free time between school, sports and all of the clubs I'm in.

I really love _Leviathan_. I'm super excited about _Behemoth_ coming out on October 5.

I would also like to point out the lack of _Leviathan_ love on the InterWebz. It's seriously amazing steampunk. L-O-V-E.

This is kind of a tribute to it, to help support the fanfiction.

I would also like to point out how this is in no way related to Julia456's drabble series _Quite Peculiar_. I myself am alerted on her updates. Serious awesome right there.

Planning on updates _every_ day.

* * *

_Moonlight_

It had been a hard day, working on the ship and engines. Most of the crew was up on the dorsal side, enjoying the sun and heat and the fresh air. Deryn, however, had taken to staying in the cabin she shared with Alek, seeing as he wasn't there and she needed 'thinking time'.

Really, Deryn had been trying to avoid Alek to the point that she would sleep in the overheated machine room to keep from having to come in contact with him. The little feeling of electricity that she felt when he was around was getting annoying and hard to bear. She told herself it was her monthly, but she could only fool herself so much.

This day, however, was slightly different than all of the other days (she had lost count of the hours, days, weeks). Deryn was feeling particularly tired and decided that she should take a little catnap. She snuggled down into the hard comforter, wishing that she wasn't so warm.

xox

Hours later, after dinner in the mess and sunset, Alek returned to the cabin to find Dylan asleep on his bed. _He must have been very tired. He's never here before me and he's always sketching till midnight!_

Alek saw Dylan shiver a bit and noticed how he was uncovered save for his garments. No blankets, sheets, or pillows remained on the bed. Alek removed his jacket and tossed it over the shivering boys body. He turned towards Dylan's bed and prepared for sleep.

xox

Deryn was awoken by the feeling of a thin jacket being tossed onto her shoulders. Thankful for the warmth, she slid her eyes open to see Alek sliding off his shirt. She quickly shut her eyes and waited to hear the sound of his sheets slipping over his form before she opened them again.

There lay Alek, her friend, her punching bag. There lay Alek, possible future emperor of a kingdom of 50 million souls. _I wouldn't even be empress if I were to mar-. Wait._

Deryn realized how she had immediately thought of herself in place of his queen. She was embarrassed with herself because of her thought process. Why ever would he want someone he knew to be a boy, anyway?

Deryn refocused her gaze onto the sleeping form of Alek. He seemed so destructible and innocent and bloody _clean. _The moonlight grazed his features with loving fingers and twirled and danced between the strands of hair on his head. She noticed how he had a bit of hair growing in front of his ear and on his jaw. She saw how his muscles rippled and flexed when he moved and clenched his hands.

That was the first night that Deryn praised only moonlights touch, not Aleks.

* * *

September 1, 2010

A little bit iffy. I think I may re-write, seeing as the points I wanted to get out weren't clear.

Not great, not horrible. Opinions?


	2. Clubbing Replaces the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

Realized how utterly horrible of a beginning that was. Agh. Re-write soon, trust me.

Thanks so much, GECOgally, for the first review _and_ story alert. To show how much I dig you for that, give me a challenge or something. I usually write them but never post 'em. It can be a separate one-shot or an addition to this collection (please, keep it Leviathan. I'm pretty lame when it comes to fandoms.) Be as specific as you want (besides the word-count. I can do max's and min's but I can't do an exact number like, ex. 134 words)

Other than that… well, I have nothing.

* * *

_Clubbing_

Alek really regretted his decision to go to a bar with the rest of the _Leviathan's _crew.

The amount of alcohol that had been consumed was astounding. There appeared to be no legal drinking age and the drinks flowed between the crew members, officers to middies. All of the crew was trashed and acting rather violent whenever he tried to take away their exotic ales. No one seemed to realize that he wasn't near drunk and didn't appear to want to stop drinking anytime soon.

Alek eventually carried himself to a barstool in the corner. Sitting alone and sipping daintily at a cup of water, he was trying to seek out a familiar (and hopefully sober) face in the crowd, when Dylan dropped in the seat next to hime.

"Ya look shh-o dull, shh-itting here all alooone. Alllll allooooonne," Dylan slurred as he sipped his drink. Turning his head back towards Alek he drawled out, "How alone are you, Mr. Prince? You're so perfect. Sh-ooo perfect…"

Alek, as confused as he was by Dylan's drinking, responded, "I'm not alone. I have you, idiot."

"Ahh, but you barely _know_ me. Not at all. Not a simple dame without her diddies. Not me! Not to _you!_"

Dylan continued in this manner for several minutes before stopping and conspicuously stage-whispered, "You'll tell know of these blighters I'm a lady, will you?" Before he- _she_ lost consciousness and slipped into Alek's arms.

Alek looked to the bartender and asked for a drink and smelling salts. He would probably need a lot of drinks for this explanation.

* * *

Once again, super short. About 300 words.

This is just a random way for Deryn to confess her feminimity. People say crap when they're drunk!


	3. Strawberries Feeds the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

Loving life. It's good. This one is going to be superbly fluffy.

Cmd. Gen. Marasco and Call me Mad AKA Ninja Fish! Thanks for the reviews. Brightened my day!

GECOgally, thanks so much for the reviews on TWO chapters. It's a new thing for me!

* * *

_Strawberries_

"Disgusting. I love it!"

It was the lines like these that surprised Alek so much. Deryn was never a _conventional_ girl, their shared adventures against the war were proof of that much, but there were mannerisms and oddities that he feared he'd never place. Such as her revulsion to fruit.

Turning back to this particular conversation, in this particular field of flowers and ripe strawberries, an eighteen year-old Deryn and a 19 year-old Alek sat across from each other. Each wore a middle-classmen's garb and each enjoyed the breeze and freedom from life.

"Deryn, however could you dislike _strawberries?_ They're perfectly delicious. And healthy!"

Deryn's natural defiance kicked in and she immediately stood, tumbling over a hard-picked basket of strawberries. "_YOU_ have never seen strawberries being digested. It's enough to churn a lady's stomach for a century or so!"

As Deryn argued, Alek realized he'd either lose and be upset or win and have Deryn upset. It'd be best to let her win, but he had to get in one comment before he submitted to her.

"At least you're not a lady. Then you'd be really disgusted!"

As the words sunk in to Deryn's noggin, her eyes began to water and her lip to tremble. She knew she would cry. _Barking spiders, why is he the only one who can hurt me so much?_ She turned away from him, hoping to hide her tears and sobs, but Alek picked it up.

Feeling automatically horrible, he reached for her hand. Instead, however, of being able to pull her in and kiss away her tears, her fist snapped out and socked him in his right ear.

As Alek sat on the ground and held his head Deryn bent over to show Alek a generous view of her breasts, not that he cared much in this state. _Wimp._

"Don't ever say I'm not a female, _again_. Do you hear me?" She tilted her head towards his left ear. He nodded softly and his reddish-brown hair tickled her face. On impulse, she smiled and kissed his cheek. Deciding to play it off, she walked away, sashaying her hips and waving over her shoulder. "Then, I guess I'll see you at home. Love you!"

Alek remembered only the scent of strawberries and an angels swift, brief kiss.

* * *

Breifvity. I love it!

Dear GECOgally. READ THE FIRST AUTHORS NOTE THING IN THE SECOND CHAPTER. I have no life and would love to write.

Also, I hate allergies, faulty air conditioning and strawberries. At the same time.


	4. Attics Hold the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

So, I'm already losing my ability to find new ideas for chapters. And I have until the end of September (that's the last day of this drabble series. I may start another after this one, but I HAVE to read Behemoth first.) I'm totally digging the small group of people who have reviewed/alerted already!

To those who want to write but don't know what to write about, RANDOM WORD GENERATOR!

* * *

_Attic_

No one then realized the immensity of Deryn's choice to reveal herself when _it_ happened. No one realized that Prince Aleksander knew. No one gave it a second thought, except to scorn her. No one wanted to interview her or try and make friends. It mattered neither where she went nor how she dressed, people were still disgusted with her.

After several months of madness and pain and sickness, Deryn realized why she was so ill. She went into hiding and disappeared with Mr. Klopp, a man she had found and provided solace to after Alek's death.

The media was filled with stories of her and a suspected murder (a story she rather liked to read, for it made her life sound so exciting) but after two weeks or so the roar dulled and only every once in a while would 'that whore, Deryn Sharp' be mentioned in public.

xox

Few, however, knew of her real reason to disappear. The day that the war had officially ended Deryn had told Alek that she was female. After several days of brooding over his response, Alek had pranced into the house she now owned in London and kissed her deeply without any words needing to be spoken. What happened after was a secret she held dear.

One month after this, Alek had been traveling from France to London when men from the old Resistance decided to attack his ship in the middle of the night. Alek never saw the light of day again.

Deryn had cried at the funeral and the memorial and had hosted a day in their home to commemorate Alek's memory. She cried every morning when she passed the park that they their first date in. She cried when she saw the tree he had skillfully carved their initials into. She cried the day she found out that she was pregnant.

Deryn most have been around four months along when she discovered it. She had taken a trip to the old Homsburg palace and had the physician look into it. He signed a secrecy form and promised to serve the mother of his once-prince's child.

Deryn escaped into the mountains of Switzerland. She lived in a cottage of wood and smoke and had Klopp take care of her. He wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, in the name of her love for Alek.

Finally the day came when her pregnancy ended and her motherhood began. After hours upon hours of screaming for Alek, telling him how much she needed him, showing how much she couldn't have him, their child was in her arms and she wanted nothing more than to cry.

Looking up at her were a pair of bright green eyes and load of dark red-brown hair. The child, Lea, looked like Alek and nothing would separate Deryn from her.

The years passed and Deryn never left the small, isolated town she and Lea lived in. She went by a different name and told everyone that she was a young widow. She worked in an art supply shop and sometimes gave lessons to young artists. She wore simple, bright dresses. She learned Swedish but was never very good at it. She let the other young children teach Lea the language and soon Lea was interpreting everything Deryn needed to know. Their life was a happily quaint one, but whenever Deryn needed to escape she would ride and climb and follow a path up the mountain, just to feel as free as she did back when she was a boy and could fly and be a soldier.

It was one of these times when Lea found the attic.

xox

Lea had been searching the cottage for a sketching pad. She had found a lovely patch of sky and decided that it simply _must_ be drawn. She knew she took after her mother in that aspect and was amazingly proud of herself.

Lea knew that her mother kept art supplies in a room at the top of the house. She had never been there, however, and was unsure how to find the paper she needed. Without thinking, she mounted the stair case and climbed to the room in the top of the house. She came to a closed door that looked awfully out of place and dull. She wiggled the door knob, once again without thought, and the door swung upon. Dust kicked up about the room.

The room contained a modest writing desk and bookshelf. It held a chest that was obviously unlocked and a path of footprints that had been made through the dust not too long ago. Lea carefully followed the prints, making sure not to let her mother know of her being here. She knew not of the reaction it would receive.

First, she followed the prints to the full bookcase. Looking carefully through the arranged books and such, she realized a trend. Many were about the royal families of Europe and of the Great War. Some were large binders that Lea took the grace to thumb through. They held periodicals and pictures of a group of men and a woman and a prince.

_LEVIATHAN CREW SAVES FRANCE!_ and _Deryn Sharp: Whore or Hero? _Were two titles that seemed to have been thumbed through a lot. _Prince Aleksander Come Home _was smeared with droplets that could have been a tea spill, tears or rain. A large picture of a crew of men and an original Darwinist/Clanker creation that was made before the exile of the war machines was at the bottom of the page. Two boys, both only adolescents, were seen grinning widely and hooking arms. They stood in front of a scientist woman, a man in captain's garb, a man in once-fancy clothing and a man with what seemed to be permanent grease stains and a shocking resemblance to the neighbor she called Mr. Klopp.

_Who are they? Who is she? Why are they in the picture? What's going on?_ The questions slipped through her head like soap through grasping fingers. One of the boys looked familiar and the other looked like her. The woman in the back had a familiarity about her that made Lea's questioning deepen. The two men in nice clothing were men she never wished to meet. Their expressions were quite frightening.

She placed the book of periodicals back and soon made her way over to the chest on the floor. It proved to be wealthy in paper but her interest in drawing had long ago faded to nothingness. A few sheets of music were scattered amongst loose leaves of colored and chalked art. They were all pictures of the crew from the periodical.

Quickly getting up, she scurried over to the desk. As opposed to her mother's usual cleanliness and organization, it was a mess of paper and pens and ink. It had several nose napkins and a glass of water covering the surface. Randomly selecting a paper, she was astonished as to what she found.

_Dear Alek,_

_How I miss you. Not a day goes by when I look at our daughter and think of you. Not a day goes by that I wish that I had been there to die with you. I wish I could find your body, somewhere in the Strait, and use it as the proof that you will never return. I always wish you would return._

_Lea. Oh, Lea is the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world. She acts so much like you. I wish you could meet her. You would be proud._

_I love you._

_Deryn_

_Alek? Was that not the boy who was talked about in the periodicals? Was that not the once Prince of Austria-Hungary? And who is Deryn?_

Unbeknownst to her daughter, Deryn had been in the room soon after she had found the desk. Deryn watched as tears welled in her daughter's eyes and felt them appear in hers as well. She should intervene, but she could not. Lea must first cope, and then be talked to.

Several minutes later, Lea picked up the glass of water and flung it to the floor. The sound of glass crunching must have been pleasant, for she picked up a vial of writing ink and once again flung it at the floor. Over and over she repeated this process until the floor was covered in glass and ink. She lost all of her energy and collapsed onto her knees. The sobs proceeded loudly.

Deryn danced lightly over the glass, hovering above her daughter before brushing back glass so that she could sit. She touched her daughter's shaking shoulder and suddenly it was rigid.

"You never planned on telling me? I'm nearly 14, mother. I have a right to _know_ who you are!"

Flinching slightly at the words, she removed her hand and sat silently for a while. She had known this moment would come, she always knew.

"The story is much more complicated that you think, Lea. More complicated that you could ever know," her voice was quiet and unlike her.

"I suppose your name isn't even Charlotta, is it?" At the shake of Deryn's head Lea pressed on, "I bet you're this Deryn Sharp," Once again a nod, "and you loved this fellow Alek." Deryn's head snapped up. Lea had read the letters. Lea _knew_.

"Yes," was the murmured answer.

"Were you going to neglect me my father? How is that your choice! Maybe I've wanted him my entire life. Maybe I've wanted someone to hold hands with when you're mad. Maybe! But why? Why, oh, why, oh, why." Lea had lost control of herself. Flicking her hands out, she lepta to her feet and trotted heavily towards the bookshelf. Pulling out the binder from earlier, Lea called out, "It says somewhere in here that he was a prince. Did he leave you? Did he? Where is he! I must meet him!"

"You cannot."

The response took Lea by surprise and she turned around so quickly that the binder flung from her hands and to the floor near Deryn. Deryn lifted the book easily and flipped to the very last page. It showed an article about the death of Deryn's love and life. "He is dead. Killed, by a leftover resistance that thought him harmful to the peace. They would have killed me as well, had I been with him."

Lea stopped herself in her tracks and asked her mother about the war.

And Deryn spoke.

Lea felt as if she had been entranced. Her mother's life had revolved around the air. Air to breathe, air to live and, if possible, air to eat. Still, Deryn's life was not remarkable until she met the prince. Some spark she didn't know she lacked had been lit and she could feel the warmth it gave off whenever her lighter was near.

As Lea listened to her mother's tales of fights, robbery, love and secrecy, she began to understand more. And as she heard more of her father, a man who died at the age of 25, the more she wished to the heavens above that she could meet him.

"… and you have his eyes. Beautiful and emotion-filled. He would be so proud."

_I wish I could ask him about how he saw mam. I wish I could have him hold me when mam was gone. I feel so juvenile but I feel I must wish._

"Mother, there is no reason to believe he isn't proud if _you_," she said with a straight face. Her mother's expression crumpled to one of loss and pain. Tears spilled and soon they were holding onto each other like lifelines.

After the tears stopped and the sadness was once again reined, Deryn looked to her daughter. "I miss my old house in London."

"Maybe it's time we visited."

"Maybe."

* * *

Whoa. Where the freak did THIS come from? I've no idea. But I like.

This will probably be the longest chapter. Maybe not.

Anyone have any ideas they'd like me to write about? I'm bored.

Oh! And also, I've decided to start a little sentence-long-random-fact about me thing. Watch out for these! I'm pretty awesome when I want to be! (Kidding!)

Fact: I'm deathly afraid of 5 things. Clowns, jellyfish, the dark, poisionous insects and horror films.


	5. Soldiers Protect the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

Agh. I didn't technically update on time. (I try updating by Eastern Time. It's easy to remember and it's earlier than I would do it. I'm just pretending that I'm updating on time now!)

Thanks so much for the reviews! This chapter is happier (in my view)

Also, last chapter I was asked some questions about timeline and everything. It was basically that the war ended when Alek was 22 or so (around modern marrying age) and he had a child with Deryn within the next year. They never married. The 'attic' related part happened about twelve years after. Maybe?

Maximilian, I believe, was actually a son of Franz Ferdinand. He just skips a generation in this story. :D

* * *

_Soldiers_

Something about battle intrigued Maximilian. The clash of swords. The sweat, turmoil and pain. The intrigue and mystique. All he saw was beautiful and choreographed. Life at its most extreme, played out right before his eyes. Somehow, the grotesqueness of it all entrapped him.

He watched as the zeppelins entered with an airborne attack. Soon it would be destroyed by one of the Darwinists airships, but the damage it could manage beforehand would be catastrophic. Explosions rang.

Odd creatures waited behind hills beyond the Darwinist lines to launch an attack on unsuspecting Clankers who strayed too far from battle. Killing the frightened ones off, an odd technique but useful in the long run.

Turning his attention back to his own sabre, Max felt the power of adrenaline pulse through his veins. Strong were his once poorly limbs, intelligent and swift was his once dull brain! He, who was thought upon as a sad, sick boy! He, who was triumphant in battle! Him, Maximilian, Conqueror of all Eur—

"En garde, monsieur," shouted a young Max as he leapt from his desk, knocking over several of his older brothers 'military dolls'. He fell to the ground and, in an attempt to roll to his feet as he had seen his father do, threw his sword haphazardly to the side where his sister, Lea, sat brushing her dolls hair.

"Maximilian, I don't see how you think yourself so pompous. You can't even manage to jump from a desk that's shorter than you," said Lea as she applied her mother's stolen make-up to her dolls face.

Rolling his eyes, Max fought the urge to reply with 'shut up'. The comeback didn't seem nearly articulate enough. He continued his romp about the room, fighting off Darwinists and Clankers, all in the name of war.

"Lea! Max! Bed time, my loves! Be read on the count of three!" Both children squealed and ran to their large bed to hide beneath the covers. The steps creaked as their Mother walked up the steps. She had never been good at sneaking, they would say after she left.

"Lea! Max! Oh, where could they be!" The words contained a sticky sweetness that could be mistaken for worry or joking. The kids couldn't tell either apart.

Suddenly, a huge weight fell atop them. They're mother began to tickle them senseless but soon enough, the day caught up with the young ones and they yawned in place of laughing.

"I see you two are tired. I love you. Goodnight. Shall I send daddy up, soon?" Both nodded sleepily. Their mother sung a low song of whispers and love and when they were almost in dreamland, Max's hand raised sluggishly. It held a small soldier.

"Give this to daddy. He'll know what to do," and off to dreamland was the child.

"Aye, he'll know what to do. But you don't _need_ soldiers anymore. You have me and daddy." Deryn kissed her child's forehead and left for her and Alek's room so they could finally sleep.

* * *

I used the word 'Aye.' WT, beyotchs! :)

So I felt this was happier, in a sense. The war is over, they have a family, and life is simple. Sounds pretty great to me!

I have seriously been reading _Leviathan_ over and over and over to try to pick at bits and pieces of loose ends that haven't been picked at before. I ended up falling in love with the opening sequence of it, where we think a battle is about to start and we're all pumped? Yeah, I was a bit let down at first, but now I love the suspense!

I have to go, seeing as I just threw my Biology book at a vengeful spider thats been trying to kill me all day.

Fact: I lack talent :)


	6. Followers Stalk the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

Agh. Life's been busy. I hope to regain confidence in you by updating twice!

…

No?

* * *

_Followers_

Deryn supposed that being famous sucked. Being stalked and loved and pushed around, it wasn't all that great.

She never knew that she would need a breaking point. She never thought that she would need to _break_.

That was, however, before the day that Alek walked into their home with his collar pulled up higher than normal. She questioned him all through dinner, and all through washing up, and until they were in lying in bed facing each other. That's when he broke. Apparently he had been walking home when some girls took interest in him. They prodded and asked who he was and when he responded, they proceeded to do the most ghastly thing.

They _bit_ him.

"I never meant to, Deryn! I had no choice!" Deryn simply kissed his cheek and told him to sleep, she had a plan.

Never would those girls know what happened.

* * *

This is part of a series of two. The second one will be a short follow-up. It sucks, but this is going to be the only length I can manage until like Thursday.

And then I have a softball tournament. Yay.

I will be responding to people's PM's soon. Just soon. No specified date.

Night!


	7. Stalkers Follow the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers –

* * *

Agh. Just… agh.

Explain: I see Deryn and Alek keeping their relationship secret at the start and being _strictly_ friends in public. The media know that they live in the same building, but not that they own the entire building and sleep in the same bed! (I figure they'd be plenty old enough after the war.)

_

* * *

_

__

Stalkers

The gossipers of Paris filled the streets that day. People leaned from windows and bridges and trolleys, just to hear the news. Whatever had gone down must have been important, a murder or such, to get this much attention!

Many were slightly disappointed that the commotion was once again caused _those _two rascals. Many were surprised at the events. Few had expected it to happen at any moment.

The newspaper headlines read: **PRINCE AND PEASANT! WHAT WAS HE THINKING? WILL IT WORK?** The story outlined a grotesque tale of a pair of friends walking to a shared apartment building when, suddenly!, they were attacked by a group of drooling fangirls! After fighting off the terrible creatures, Prince Aleksander swept to his love and leant to kiss her softly before a crazed woman attacker and bit his neck! Bleeding profusely, Aleksander was lead in doors to the safety of his partner's home. The next day, after deciding to make their relationship public, Deryn Sharp, girl wonder and hero of England, called a public conference to discuss 'pressing matters'. After the crowd had filed in, Ms. Sharp called the Prince to the stage and continued on to kiss him in a most disgusting manner. No comment from the couple was made.

In an apartment near London Zoo, Deryn leaned over a small coffee table to kiss Alek on the cheek.

"Barking spiders! We commented! 'Stop biting my boyfriend!', I said!"

Alek only laughed and leaned in again.

* * *

This is unworthy. D:


	8. Theatre Spur the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

So… ahh. It's been a while. Eh?

Yeah, I have no excuse. Don't believe me when I say I'll update.

I'm a liar.

* * *

Theatre

It was an unusual occasion that Deryn and Alek would go out in public. She refused to wear the proper finery and he refused to let her endure that kind of ridicule. She would always claim that she was a big girl and that she would get over anything they said, but he didn't believe her. He knew that all of the times she heard the people in crowds say something negative, she thought it was about her. He felt her shaking when the maids and waiters of various homes and restaurants would ignore her.

This time, however, was different. He had been working in his study when a finely dressed Deryn pranced into the room and slammed tickets down to his desk.

"I've always wanted to see this play, even if it's in German." And so he changed into his tuxedo and away they went to the theatre.

Deryn was jittery in the crowd, probably expecting a nasty comment to be flung her way. However, they heard no negative comments, only approving compliments telling them how lovely they looked together. They were quickly swarmed with duchesses and high up ladies that were pretending to be friends with Deryn. Deryn and Alek left quickly for their private booth.

As they settled into the seats, Alek slipped his hand into Deryn's eliciting a giggle and a faint blush from his fiancé. She squeezed his hand back before retracting it with a murmur that she musn't ruin the soft satin gloves on her hands.

The lights dimmed and the overture began before Alek could respond. He grunted loudly in annoyance, crossed his arms and slid down in his seat like a toddler. Deryn giggled and tapped his leg with her foot. Alek sat up and assumed a false arrogance in his posture. He looked at Deryn out of the corner of his eye. He tapped her leg back and stared contemplatively at the stage.

Soon ensued a vicious game of footsie. This preceded a few moments of hand-holding. Deryn mentioned to Alek that he hadn't properly thanked her for the tickets and he kissed her. The kissing continued for some time, just like their first real kiss when they were younger.

Deryn stopped kissing her fiancé for just a few moments so she could tell him why she wanted to come out tonight. Deryn tried a sly approach, saying that 'soon she wouldn't fit into this damn dress' and that 'she would be too tired and fat' Alek simply said that she wasn't gaining any weight at all. Deryn took mercy on the poor, dense man and just told him.

When Alek realized that he was soon to be a father, he swept up his fiancé and their private booth was left empty for the rest of the night.

* * *

I am so ashamed.


	9. Prison Contains the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

I haz a guilt.

* * *

_Prison_

Deryn sighed as she lifted herself from her perch on the small bench she was allowed in her cell. Her legs were restless but she kept to the small shadows near the back, to keep from drawing attention to herself. There were some shady characters in the Barlinnie, including the Warden and the Night Guard. As soon as the lamps dimmed for the artificial night they created here and as soon as the beasties activities in the halls began to slow down, Deryn crept to the back left corner of her shit-filled cage and tried to sleep on bricks.

Deryn sat in the horrid pit, awaiting 'morning'. She knew she'd end up here, she'd known it all along. There'd always been the awareness that she would have to come out about her gender or that someone would come out for her. She knew she would face the consequences.

Now that she was here, in a filthy and ragged dress no less, she began to see the downsides. She was alone. She was cold. She was underground. She was still alone.

_Alek…_

Deryn thought of him every day. She thought of him when the halls were quiet and dark. She thought of him when the nice guard her wing had read aloud to them from the paper. She thought of him when all of the (male) prisoners got wine and she and all of the other (female) prisoners got juice to celebrate the Austrian withdrawal of armed forces from Darwinist lines. The Prince Aleksander Ferdinand's name was shouted to the heavens, Scottish men praising the 'foreign bastard'. Deryn was never freed from her relentless thoughts of _him._

A month after the war had ended, Deryn stayed in her cell. Many of the inmates that had been there when she'd arrived over a year ago had been released, for she'd been in one of the lower security programs. (In the mines of the Warden and the guards, she was simply a woman. They forgot that she had fooled an entire ship of men for three years. ) If Deryn had been lonely in the first year of her sentence, she didn't know how much she could take. It would most defiantly not be 34 more years. She'd be insane by then.

However, Deryn was saved during the second month of her imprisonment (she never knew how long it'd been and she never inquired to how long she'd been in prison). She had been pacing her cell, her hands anxious to be creative but having nothing with which to create. Suddenly, she heard a grand commotion of stomping feet above her. She heard trumpets and shouting and wondered vaguely if someone was attacking. _Maybe I'll escape…_

Soon the stomping had stopped and she was alone in the quiet. Her floors guard had gone to investigate and hadn't returned, so she assumed someone was visiting. Probably no one she cared about. Sighing, she leaned back against the wall and tapped her fingers to a tune only she knew.

As suddenly as the earlier commotion had begun, uproar started. This one was much closer though and was coming much closer. Soon, the din was upon her and she couldn't believe what she saw.

Most of the Leviathan's old crew (plus a select few others, such as Dr. Barlow and Count Volger) were tromping down the hall with what looked like a wild business man checking each and every cell as thoroughly as he could from outside them.

"She must be here, she must!" muttered the 'wild man'. The rest of the party seemed to ignore him and walked calmly behind his maelstrom.

Dr. Barlow, who was looking mysteriously larger and was leaning onto Volger a little too much, whispered in said mans ear, "We must get someone to find out which cell she's in. It might make the poor man sane again."

"My dear, after he found out, he would never be sane again."

Suddenly, the man was at her cell bars and he had stopped all moving (and possibly, breathing) as he gazed at her. She knew him, she knew him, _she knew_ _him._ He'd grown nearly a foot, his reddish hair was longer and stubble graced his perfect jaw. Green eyes peered at her, stunned, beneath trim eyebrows. _Alek…_

"Lieber Gott. Leiber Gott! Ich habe sie gefunden und sie hatte hier und … oh Gott!" The man was practically falling all over himself to try to get inside to her. The rest of his party had heard his exclamations and had picked up their pace, eager to see her.

Deryn was the only one who was shocked into silence. She stared into Alek's eyes and, without thought, pushed away from the wall. She walked across the small steps to the bars where Alek's arms reached for her and stopped. In a daze, her fingers travelled to his skin, across his skin, against his skin. He let his arms go slack in an attempt to bring her closer. She took another step to him and pushed her arms through the bars and her hands to his face. He closed his eyes and Deryn examined him, barely aware of Dr. Barlow, Volger, Newkirk and two odd little creatures giggling behind him. He looked tired.

He leaned his forehead towards her and she leaned her lips towards him. When her lips finally left the taught skin above his eyebrows, she whispered in her rough and unused feminine voice, "Alek. My Alek."

And she let loose her first smile in a long time.

* * *

I don't have an excuse.

P.S. If you have a Deviantart account, PM me (or tell me in a review) because I've started to leak these onto my DA account. I'll probably always submit here first, because they send out actual e-mails, but you'll have more updates on whats going on. I also contact more freely from my DA.

If you don't have a DA, but would like mass e-mails with the same basic content that'll be on my DA, I'm putting together an e-mail account specifically for Fanfiction. I'll toss you my e-mail and then you can e-mail me and I'll start to send updates to you. They will most likely NOT be regular e-mails. They'll come every once in a while. Or I'll spam you. Depends.


	10. Aches Bother the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

_Aches_

Deryn knows she should be happy. She knows she should be glad that her fiancé is well-off and high bred. Every girl in the country (but her) would gladly give up beauty, fortune, and love to be by his side. She was in a position of societal power and could use it to obtain any sort of means she wished. She would never use such a power, not unless necessary.

However, this discovery only annoyed her. She wanted a reason for this damn marriage to be happening. She had turned over all of the benefits, but none were quite the real reason. Yes, she was powerful, but not to make real decisions. Yes, she was considered the epitome of fashion and beauty, yet she never really liked seeing other women wear clothes identical to her own. Yes, she had more money than could fit inside her (rather large) closet, and she would never touch one pound of it.

She sighed as dinner (and her thoughts) came to an end. She wished she could deny the fact that the Earl of March (Ewan, he told her to call him) was handsome and kind. She wished she could rave in her letters to Dr. Barlow-Volger about how vulgar and decrepit the man was, but truthfully, he was no such thing. He was actually quite… amiable. They never fought, and when she thought they might finally break free from the friendly exterior they both painted on so well, he would rescind his bordering harsh words.

She wished only for him to be like the only other noble she knew. She wished for their relationship to take wing and to soar high, fueled by passion and arguments and love in the rain. She prayed to God every Sunday that the week would be _the _week, the week he would snap a harsh word and not say he was sorry. She begged Him to change Ewan's long curly blond mop into a short and straight russet-coloured coif. She woke each morning with an urge to see deep green and readable eyes at her table, instead finding light blue politician's eyes.

Deryn was cut off again from her thoughts as The Earl swept low to kiss her cheek in a farewell-for-the-night gesture. She was aware that he knew his way around women, and was pleased with the nothingness she felt at his chasteness.

As he hastened away, she opened the door to her chamber. Her writing desk was opened, as was the letter she had read earlier. She made her way over to the desk, and the soon to be Countess of March reread the parts she already knew by heart.

'…_an addition in the family… My husband misses your wit… the Emperor hasn't shown in months…devastated... wants back… thinks… no chance… visits… I miss… happiness… remind me… marrying… stupid…miss… you and him… Love, Nora Barlow-Volger, scientist and future mummy'_

Deryn sat aside the letter and began to compose her reply:

_Dear Nora,_

_A baby! Or a new fabricated half-Beastie half- Machine that will scare your neighbors? I pray fondly for the first, but can expect either equally. _

_You tell Count Volger that he must visit me, as he is (gladly) not engaged to an Earl. Being so engaged I have discovered one of the many, many downsides to being Countess. Working. With people. Who know nothing of the sky or war. Blighters._

_As for the Emperor. Well, I'll address him later. He is my most important rant, and that is, as you know, always my last._

_The Earl of March is not an unkind fellow. He deserves to be happy, and claims that I make him so. It is my duty to be a responsible grown-up and do something advantageous for my family. Not that marrying Alek wouldn't have been advantageous, just not as advantageous. What sort of marriage would help my family from out of the country? Not a good one._

_However, I have unfortunately realized that I must soon die. There is no way to make myself happy here, and our missing Emperor will never want me back, despite your claims. He is convinced of his love only in his country, and very rarely is he sure of that. After the war, we both need someone who is stable. Neither of us can promise the other not to break their hearts. My heart is still so broken and it's been nearly a year. He may be in equal or worse shape, but the best recovery is to move on. No matter that I wish he would come tromping up the steps of my large home (estate, castle, etc.) on my wedding day and demand that I be released. He must get over the pain he feels as I wish to get over mine. I want to like the man that I am soon to marry. But I also want that man to be Alek. I want to be as crazy and in love and broken as I was once. When I was in battle, I wanted nothing more than to live in the sky and to be elated and happy forever. Now, I'd risk the air and the happiness to be crying in the arms of the one who made me cry._

_One thing this entire ordeal has taught me: the heart aches for heartache and will settle for nothing less._

* * *

Um... WTF? This is odd and slightly repetitive and I don't think I got what I wanted across very well.

The basic storyline is -

- Alek and Deryn end the war. Alek named Emperor. Alek and Deryn form a post-war relationship in the mind that they both saw horrible things and they could get through them together.

- Deryn and Alek split. She wishes not to be in contact with him after she realizes her feelings are still there.

- Sometime after, she meets the Earl of March. He 'woo's her. He proposes. She grudginly accepts.

- Alek goes into 'working recluse'. Or so he calls it.

- Deryn wishes to be with Alek.

- Alek tells Dr. Barlow of his wishes to be with her.

- Deryn tells Dr. Barlow of her dreams to be with him and states that she would rather him come storming up and sweep her away on her wedding day.

Tada. Not brilliant. It was much deeper in my mind. Idek.

Oddly enough, this ENTIRE thing was the product of listening to Taylor Swift.


	11. Illness Troubles the Stuff of Dreamers

- Stuff of Dreamers -

* * *

Request from OpenWings. I only wish I knew your contact so I could go and tell you it's ready.

One sick-fic, coming right up.

* * *

_Illness_

Illness was not something Alek was familiar with. He was not accustomed to the stench and the look of those who are affected by the ailment. He was not established in watching the ones he loved the most succumb to natures tiniest invaders.

This was why he stayed downstairs while Deryn was being checked over by the town doctor. He attempted to concoct something that was originally supposed to be soup. He busied himself with drying his hands, even long after they were dry. He stared at the walls and tried to think of a way to fix the peeling paper without using money. He did anything to forget that Deryn was upstairs and was sick and was more vulnerable than ever and that if he didn't freaking do something _right now_ he could lose her forever.

This thought pattern (that didn't really serve its original purpose) was the reason that Alek was tromping up the stairs so fast that he nearly walked right over the decrepit little man they called a doctor here. He was so into his determination to save Deryn that the doctor didn't even register in his mind until he realized that he was stepping on something rather unlike the floor in its gushiness.

"Oh. Hello, Dr. Marsland. I was just on my way to tell you that if my wife dies, I'm going to kill you."

Taken aback by such a direct statement, Dr. Marsland only nodded and blubbered a little before he found his footing again. Brushing himself off, he said, "She's only got a cold."

Alek, unfamiliar with the term, seethes. He grabs the doctor's shirt front and leans close. "You better fix her."

The doctor is unfamiliar with the wraith of a once-Emperor and doesn't know what to do with him. He blubbers around and unknowingly heightens the ignorant Emperors anger.

"Fucking tell me what the hell is wrong!"

As it seems the man will die of fright or suffocation, Deryn calls out weakly from her bed. "Alek, let the poor man alone. He has other people he needs to see."

And as if he has forgotten of his anger and frustration, Alek drops Dr. Marsland and hurries across the threshold into their room. She is propped up on a few pillows, so different from the lively women she was but two days before. Alek stops by her bedside and sits slowly down on the edge of her bed. He gingerly takes her hand and brings it to his lips, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Hello, love," she says, far too cheerily in his mind. He wanders what goes on in that mind of hers. "What's bothering you so much? Is it me being sick? You know it's happened before. Being sick is good for you, in small amounts."

Bewildered, he looks blankly at her. "No, it's not. People die of sickness. Should I remind you of the plague? Or Yellow Fever? What if you had those!"

"Well, I don't. I have a cold. I'll be perfect in two to four days time. There's nothing wrong with me, except that I'm overtired."

"So… you aren't dying?"

Deryn giggles lightly before releasing a small cough. "No."

"So what happens now?" He still looks slightly bewildered.

"Now, love, you go and apologize to a doctor who brought good news and then you go and fix me dinner. Or ask the neighbors for some donations. They taste better."

* * *

This makes less sense than I thought. Well. Um.

doubleupdateyay?


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